


Rebuilding Walls

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [26]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sentence comes down.  Hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebuilding Walls

Renji discovered that Captain Ukitake was not a morning person, but the Thirteenth Third Seat Sentarō Kotsubaki was. In fact, when Renji caught up with Kotsubaki, he was downright jolly--whistling to himself as he made his way across the quad to greet Renji with a hearty, “Good morning! What brings you to our division, Lieutenant Abarai?”

“Any chance you know where your boss keeps the Soul Phone?”

Kotsubaki scratched his goatee and eyed Renji suspiciously. He was dressed as he usually was, in his slightly customized uniform: the thin, white coiled material around his shoulders and the matching headband that kept his triangular mass of tight curls in check--sort of. 

“What do you need it for?” Renji started to open his mouth to explain, but Kotsubaki jumped to his own conclusion, “Are you dating one of the ryoka? Maybe that sewing one with the glasses?”

Ishida? The fuck? Why did Kotsubaki go there? “Pretty sure Ishida hates me since I left him bleeding on the pavement when we first met. Humans are sensitive like that.” Renji shoved his hands in the pockets of his hakama and tried to act casual. “Look, it’s no big deal. I just wanted to catch up with the guy I roomed with when I was stationed there.”

Kotsubaki’s eyes went wide. “Urahara? Don’t let Yoruichi know you’re dating her man. She’ll kill you. Tessai, too.” With a shake of his head, Kotsubaki muttered, “Jeez, how many lovers can that guy juggle anyway?”

Renji didn’t really want to stand in the Thirteeth’s quad discussing Urahara’s sex life. “I dunno. I just want to borrow the damn phone.”

A few minutes later Renji stood on the porch of the captain’s office with the soul phone. Just on the other side of the door, Kotsubaki was arguing with the other Third Seat, Kiyone Kotetsu, whom they’d found already ensconced in the office with the morning’s paperwork. Something about finding her there had enraged Kotsubaki and they’d been bickering ever since. Renji nudged the door closed as he waited for Urahara to pick up.

“Are we this close? I don’t think we are,” Urahara said without even the traditional ‘moshi, moshi.’ “Do you even realize the hour, Lieutenant Abarai?”

If they were skipping the pleasantries, Renji would just get down to the point of it, too. “Listen, let’s say I needed to bust a guy out of the Maggot’s Nest, there’s totally a way, isn’t there?”

There was an audible gasp on the other end of the soul phone and the connection died. Renji stared at the phone for a few seconds, unable to decide if Urahara had hung up on him or if something had gone haywire with the connection. He was still staring at the phone in his hand when an empty ikebana vase on the railing began to ring.

Wait, the vase was ringing?

Renji put the phone to his ear. Yeah, no, it definitely wasn’t the soul phone ringing. He set the phone down and picked up the vase. When it rang again, the vase vibrated a little. Cautiously putting it to his ear, Renji said, “Moshi, moshi?”

Urahara’s voice was crisply irritated. “One does not speak of treason on an unsecured line, Lieutenant Abarai, and, most certainly, one does not speak of it on anything belonging to one Captain Jūshirō Ukitake.”

Renji glanced at the vase and then put it back to his ear. “I’m pretty sure this vase is his.”

“I’m quite certain it’s mine,” Urahara said. “In answer to your question, of course I built in backdoors. Who are we breaking out and why?”

“Nobody yet,” Renji said, feeling stupid talking into the vase. He glanced out over the frozen lake toward Ukitake’s private house wondering why ‘one’ kept secrets from Rukia’s captain. “I just want to be sure it can be done, you know, if needed.”

“Oh dear, sounds dire,” Urahara said, though in that I’m-pretending-to-care tone he sometimes adopted. He seemed to wait for Renji to say more. When he didn’t, Urahara sighed and said, “It can be done, but for your sake, I pray you won’t need to. It’s not something to be undertaken lightly.”

“Yeah,” Renji nodded. “I get it. It’s an end game.”

“Most definitely.”

“How’s Ichigo doing?”

There was stunned, awkward silence on the other end. “Oh... well, I’m not sure. We… that is, I haven’t seen him.”

“Huh.” Was Renji’s only response. Was everyone just abandoning the guy who’d pulled their asses out of the fire? Renji would make plans of his own to visit the kid, but the whole arrest thing put a wrench in that for the time being. “Well, if you do see him, tell him we’re thinking about him, would you?”

“Er, of course.”

“Tell him I don’t fucking envy him having to do high school. I fucking hated high school.”

Urahara’s chuckle had a tinge of sadness. “I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”

Renji glanced at the vase trying to fathom how you hung something like this up, but Urahara took care of it with a good-bye and a definitive click. Renji stared at the vase for several more minutes wondering if he should be worried about what other random spy/phone/gods-knew-what objects Urahara had secreted around the Seireitei, but then, setting it back in its place, decided it was probably best he didn’t know.

Grabbing the soul phone, he slid open the door to return it to the still squabbling Third Seats.

#

Yamamoto was there when Byakuya returned. He kept his head held high and his feet moving forward even as every fiber in his body screamed to run.

Shinobu must have done an admirable job stalling from what Byakuya could tell, because when he entered the library’s courtyard no one seemed at all unhappy with his tardiness. He was surprised, but pleased to see Rukia standing beside the young heir. Though she tried to hold back her emotions, Byakuya could feel the trembling concern of her reiatsu as he approached the party.

Kyōraku was the only one smiling, of course. He tipped his straw hat back and smiled a broad, reassuring grin that was belied by the severe presence of the Captain Commander. 

Yamamoto stood beneath the pine that was as ancient and gnarled as he was. He leaned heavily on his cane, his expression grim and serious. “Captain Byakuya Kuchiki,” he said in an authoritative tone. “Are you prepared to face the punishment for your crime?”

“I am,” Byakuya said, though he wasn’t at all sure he truly was. Saying good-bye to Senbonzakura had been harder than he expected, though the occasional ripple of elation from the zanpakutō that lifted his mood, kept him centered and calm. Or at least as calm as possible, given the thunderous beating of his heart.

“Shunsui has worked to convince me not to press too hard in this matter,” Yamamoto groused, sounding like a harassed grandfather. His long eyebrows twitched unhappily, “So your sentence will be for only three weeks.”

That was all? Byakuya started to feel a flush of relief, until the Captain Commander continued--

“But that time will be served in the Maggot’s Nest to remind you to take the responsibilities of your position seriously.”

Rukia gasped. Even Kyōraku straightened his posture as if caught unawares. “Whoa now, Old Man,” Kyōraku blustered, “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Yamamoto grunted unhappily. Lifting the cane, he banged it down. In the meeting hall it would have reverberated, but here, in the frozen garden, it made a muffled bump. “I have decided. If the captain shows remorse perhaps the sentence can be commuted.” 

It was, perhaps, unwise, but Byakuya said firmly, “I have no remorse. I regret speaking so freely in public, but nothing else.”

Kyōraku clucked his tongue and shook his head. Yamamoto’s eyes narrowed as if Byakuya had confirmed his worst suspicions. “Will you turn yourself in, Captain Kuchiki, or should I have you escorted away?”

This, at least was more dignity than Byakuya had expected. He’d steeled himself for handcuffs and an escort. To walk himself would be a relief. “I’m ready to turn myself in to the proper authorities now.”

Yamamoto nodded.

“At least let me accompany you,” Kyōraku offered kindly.

Byakuya almost declined out of reflex, but truthfully, he’d never entered the Maggot’s Nest as a prisoner before and wasn’t exactly sure how that was done. Did he simply present himself to Soi Fon? So he gave a stiff nod, “If you wish, Captain.”

They all stood there for a moment, as if uncertain what came next. Yamamoto huffed and turned to leave. Shinobu stepped up and said, “Let me show you out, Captain Commander. Unless you would like some tea or something to break your fast?”

There was an irritable grumble from the old man before he muttered something about never turning down Kuchiki hospitality. Shinobu gave Byakuya a glance that was surprisingly self-assured. The kenseikan still looked nearly lost in his brown curls, but there was something poised and Kuchiki in his expression that made Byakuya think, perhaps, the heir would be all right.

With those two shuffling back inside, all of a sudden Rukia’s arms were wrapped around him. She squeezed hard, like she didn’t want to let him go. “Oh, nii-sama,” she whispered into his yukata. 

He patted her back, uncomfortable, but wishing to reassure her. He had not considered how much she might look like Hisana at this moment, with welling tears in those large, purple eyes. It made his heart ache unexpectedly, and, as if in response, several petals of Senbonzakura circled them protectively.

“Oh, my, my,” Kyōraku murmured.

With a lift of his hand, Byakuya sent the blades away to join the others he could sense nearby. Over Rukia’s head, Byakuya caught Kyōraku’s gaze and held it, daring him to say anything more about it.

He said nothing, only tipped his hat.

Rukia, oblivious to the exchange, squeezed Byakuya’s waist one more time. “Be safe,” she said. “I love you.”

Byakuya blinked. Of course he’d always felt the same, but neither of them had ever spoken of such things. But, could he really go away and never say? Bad enough that he had nearly died never telling her the truth about Hisana and why he’d often been so cold to her. Bending down, he kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too, Rukia.” Byakuya’s voice hitched unexpectedly. He felt like he was saying goodbye to so much. And Renji wasn’t here.

She gasped, but then gave him a brilliant smile. She let him go and, thus buoyed, he nodded to Kyōraku that he was ready to go.

As they left the estate, Byakuya refused to look back. There was no need to. He would see it again. Three weeks. He could survive three weeks.

#

“Three weeks in the Maggot’s Nest? How the fuck is he supposed to survive three weeks in the Maggot’s Nest?” Renji demanded of Rukia.

She gaped at him, “You said he’d agreed to this. You said I shouldn’t fight it, that I should let him go!”

Renji scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to control the wild panic that had seized him the second “Maggot’s Nest” had come out of Rukia’s mouth. Fuck. He couldn’t believe they’d sent the Kuchiki clan head to a hellhole like that. Sure, he’d thought it was a possibility--enough to risk a call to Urahara--but, fuck. 

Plunking his ass down on the nearby desk, Renji took in a long breath. He stared at the Zen koan on Byakuya’s estate office wall and tried to remind himself of Byakuya’s strength. Even without Senbonzakura, Byakuya was a hakuda master. Those poor bastards wouldn’t know what hit them if they tried anything on with him.

“Right,” Renji said, trying to convince himself. “Three weeks. I guess it could have been worse.”

Besides, they wouldn’t put Byakuya in with the general population. They couldn’t. After all, they weren’t going to seal away Senbonzakura---not like that, anyway. They’d have to keep Senbonzakura somewhere separate, under some kind of lock and key, but fraternization wasn’t worth cutting their bond. 

Something scratched the window pane, like a branch pushed by the wind. Renji glanced over, confused. They were too high up. Besides, the Kuchiki groundskeeper kept all the trees perfectly trimmed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar flash of pink.

He blinked.

It was way too late in the season for cherry blossoms…

Three more blades passed by the window, then a rush of them. Renji could hear their song. It was…

It was… Senbonzakura?

It had to be, but what the fuck?

Renji glanced over at Rukia. She was staring out the window, too. Looking to Renji, her eyes were wide with fear. “You don’t think he’s… resisting, do you?”

“No,” Renji felt very certain that was not Senbonzakura in fight mode. For one, he’d heard that song. It was nothing like this. The song they sang right now was much less thunderous, less pounding and more… free form? Renji’s stomach dropped again. Could Byakuya have… what? Set them free?

His hand sought out Zabimaru.

 _You don’t think Senbonzakura is like us?_ the snake hissed sarcastically. _That they can’t manifest themselves?_

The baboon king snorted. _They had bankai long before we did, fool. How do you think they got it done?_

Right, of course. Of course Senbonzakura could manifest separately from Byakuya. 

“Byakuya let them go--Senbonzakura, I mean,” Renji said out loud when it finally hit him . “Your brother and his Kuchiki pride, huh? But it makes sense, I guess. I just never thought Byakuya--” could unclench… release his stranglehold on… no, Zabimaru was right. This was Senbonzakura. There was no one Byakuya trusted more in the whole world. 

Still. That meant Byakuya was alone in that place.

#

Kyōraku didn’t push them to hurry, but when Byakuya stepped into shunpo, the captain followed. When they dropped back to normal speeds, Kyōraku held on to his hat lightly as he said, “I suppose it is a bit chilly for a stroll, but I wouldn’t have thought you’d be in a hurry to get to this place.”

 _Sooner in, sooner out._ Byakuya thought, saying nothing. They stood in front of the Second Division’s tall stairway. Tall evergreen pines stood stark against a pale, cold clear sky. The place was empty of even guards. Though he’d come here willingly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up in dread and anticipation. “Has a butterfly been sent? Is the captain expecting us?”

Soi Fon seemed to step out of the shadows of the trees at that moment. Kyōraku laughed, “Ho, apparently so. Speak of the devil! Greetings!” He waved at her jovially, like they were all meeting for a picnic.

Byakuya grit his teeth. He probably should not have agreed to have Kyōraku come along. His cheerfulness was grating. Byakuya found he preferred the cold fire in Soi Fon’s eyes.. It matched his own.

Without any attempt at pleasantries, or even a nod hello to Kyōraku, Soi Fon kept her gaze focused entirely on Byakuya as she came down the stairs. “The Maggot’s nest is not a civilian prison. Where is your uniform, Captain Kuchiki?”

Rather than lie, Byakuya simply said, “It’s early morning.”

“One will be provided,’ she said. Then, unnecessarily snidely, she added, “But it won’t be tailored. Just ‘off the rack,’ I’m afraid.”

Kyōraku cleared his throat. “My, my, this is starting out so well. Nice to see everyone getting along,” he mused. 

“Why are you even here, Kyōraku?” Soi Fon snapped.

“Well. my dear _Captain_ Soi Fon,” Kyōraku smiled pleasantly, though clearly enunciating the honorific that she had denied him. “I am here representing the Head Captain. For reasons, he would not elaborate, Yama-ji felt that it was important that a witness to the proceedings transcribe the confession that Captain Kuchiki must sign.”

Byakuya glanced over--and then up, forgetting that Kyōraku was even taller than Renji. Was this a lie? Or was this something that Yamamoto and Kyōraku had discussed previously? It was impossible to read Kyōraku’s expression, however, as he was his usual unflappable self.

Crossing her arms in front of her slender body, Soi Fon regarded Kyōraku silently for a moment. Byakuya got the impression there was some long-standing rivalry here, though such a thing made no sense. Perhaps she was jealous of Kyōraku’s closeness to the Head Captain? It was no secret that Kyōraku and Ukitake were favorites. Soi Fon was similarly obviously an ambitious woman. 

Regardless, the lie or the pre-consideration concerned Byakuya. “Why?” he asked. “Is it myself or Captain Soi Fon who is considered untrustworthy?”

“An interesting assumption, Mr. Byakuya,” Kyōraku laughed. “But would you believe that you are the first and only captain to be under arrest for fraternization? Given the delicate nature of the charge and the potential implications for others, Yama-ji just wanted to be certain of the wording of the confession. Surely, you understand the need for that, Captain Soi Fon?”

Her only response was a harrumph. Turning, she led them up the tall, wide stairs. 

Once they were ensconced in Soi Fon’s intentionally cold and oppressive office, Byakuya sat seiza, his hands resting lightly on his knees, closed his eyes, and tuned out their discussion. Perhaps it was unwise, but he chose to trust Kyōraku to represent his interests in this matter. Regardless, it would do him no good to fight any arrangement they made for him. His job from this moment onward was to endure.

As they argued over the parameters of Byakuya’s guilt, he breathed. 

It was a simple goal he set for himself: breathe in and then out. But, with each release of air, he rebuilt walls Ginrei had taught him to construct. He needed them to hide the massive amount of reiatsu being in a constant state of bankai, but as each opening narrowed Byakuya felt his heart growing heavier. 

These were the walls that had kept him from telling Rukia the truth.

These were the walls that had allowed him to hurt Renji unthinkingly.

But without them he would not... endure. It was like when he was young and wild. The choice had been simple: go deep or be broken.

Things that broke could not be recovered. Things that went deep could, eventually, resurface. Of course, then, he had had Senbonzakura to keep him company. This time, he didn't even have the comfort of their song. 

Slowly, the world grew distant, kept at bay by the barrier around his heart. Emotions faded until they were no more than feeble echoes, and into the space that was left behind, crept dutiful rational silence. 

Mid-morning came and went, as Kyōraku and Soi Fon continued to quibble over semantics. As they talked, however, it became clear to Byakuya why Yamamoto or Kyōraku himself had thought this necessary. Soi Fon would have had Byakuya sign away all his rights. Kyōraku stayed joyfully vigilant, laughing at her every attempt to exercise more power over than was strictly necessary. 

A Second Division soldier interrupted at one point to deliver a shihakushō. Though Byakuya would have been happy to leave the room to change, Kyōraku insisted that they either take a break or provide a way for Byakuya to still hear the details of the proceedings as he changed. To the disappointment, but no surprise of everyone, Soi Fon chose the latter, so Byakuya stepped behind a changing screen to strip out of his yukata.

It was at this point that Soi Fon noticed Senbonzakura’s absence.

“Was it too early for you to remember to gird on your zanpakutō as well, Captain Kuchiki?”

Having asked him the question in such a way, it was quite simple to respond: “It seems so.”

“Mr. Byakuya must not be a lark, not a morning person! A man after my own heart,” Kyōraku chuckled. 

“And yet you seem annoying sharp for such an early hour,” Soi Fon noted dryly.

“Ah, but my dear captain, that’s because I’ve not yet slept. I’m such a night owl that my late evening is your early morning.”

“How fortunate for us,” Soi Fon sighed.

The hakama Byakuya had been provided were a little short for his length. The kosode was a bit roomy, as well. All, no doubt, on purpose, Byakuya figured. Soi Fon might not win this little semantic exercise, but she was making it very clear that the smallest comforts of Byakuya’s new life were entirely at her discretion. 

He would be far more upset, but he was already deeply buried. He felt almost nothing. Besides, Byakuya had suffered this kind of pettiness many times before at the hands of far crueler masters of the art. One did not become the Kuchiki heir without having to deal with cousins and rivals short sheeting beds and hundreds of other pranks and slights intended to demean and diminish. Some quite a bit more painful and embarrassing than ‘high water” hakama.

When he emerged from behind the screen, Soi Fon was watching him. “What have you done with your zanpakutō?”

Again, Byakuya decided to answer with a truth that had nothing to do with the question asked. “Senbonzakura has a special walled garden at the estate where they rest and recover. It belongs only to them. It is quite secure.”

Perhaps she sensed his evasion, or, perhaps, she could feel bankai roiling through his reiatsu, despite the effort he exerted to conceal it. “Indeed,” she said. “Is that where the zanpakutō is now?”

“Possibly,” he was forced to concede. 

“Did you come here with your weapon drawn, Captain Kuchiki?” she wanted to know.

Technically, he supposed he did. “I have no intention of aggression,” he said plainly. “My sword may be free of its scabbard, but it is not pointed at anyone.”

Kyōraku put his hands up for peace and said, “Who among us is not, as they would say in the human world, a loaded gun, a concealed weapon? Even without a zanpakutō, we have between us enough kidō firepower and hakuda expertise to level mountains and decimate armies. If Mr. Byakuya says he comes here in the spirit of surrender, we must believe him.”

Soi Fon’s eyes narrowed. “No matter. Once he’s inside the walls of the Maggot’s Nest the dampening stones will make it impossible for him to command Senbonzakura.”

Byakuya nodded an acknowledgement. He remembered the feeling of those stones when he’d visited Seichi. Would that augment the barrier around his heart that was already putting distance between himself and Senbonzakura? If the connection was so deeply severed, Senbonzakura would re-seal themselves in the garden as discussed. Though Byakuya knew that it was quite possible for Senbonzakura to operate on their own despite a weakened connection. In Academy, he'd discovered that, if they wanted, the two of them could destroy targets miles away. He could, from here, raze a village in the Rukongai to the ground. But, he had learned then that it had to be an order Senbonzakura wished to obey. At some point, their connection became… fuzzy. Byakuya simply had to trust it would be done.

As he trusted now.

It seemed to bother Soi Fon that she had not unsettled him.

Angry, she returned to the confession. “Let’s finish this. I want you out of my office. We’ve wasted enough time.”


End file.
